


Mad Genius

by RandomOneShot



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Advancing human civilization one research paper at a time, Arcee would just like it if Jack stopped almost dying every other day, Having other people wonder if you are insane, He and Ratchet get along like a house on fire, Jack gets his own minions, Jack is a smart boy here and his first love is SCIENCE, June has aged twice as fast from all the stress, Lots and lots of physical health issues, Stop bitching about your sword Voice we'll find it eventually jeeze, Which are the direct result of someone else, Wondering if you're insane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomOneShot/pseuds/RandomOneShot
Summary: Jack Darby is pretty sure he isn't crazy. If the Voice in his head was made up by his own psychosis, it would not be able to have him preforming graduate-level physics calculations before he hit puberty. Everyone else probably would not see it that way though, so he learned to keep quiet about it.Then, sneaking out for a snack one day, he finds the most gorgeous morotcycle to ever grace his vision."Ah, where have you been all my liiiiaaaugh God, you're alive and sentient and I am so sorry I touched you!""What?!"And then the Vehicons arrived.





	1. 1.1 - Six Year Olds Don't Think They Are Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I watched all of Transformers Prime on Netflix about eight months back and quite liked it. My first exposure to the series came from Armada back in the early 2000s (hey, at least it wasn't Energon), but Beast Wars, Prime, Animated and Cybertron have been the ones I liked the most. As I was watching one of those shows, it occurred to me that one of the characters is described as rather different from his usual self in Prime and I couldn't help but wonder why.... 
> 
> STORY IDEA!!! 
> 
> So, settle in for a long ride.

For the record, I really did lose my memories. They came back later, and in probably the most traumatic way possible, but there was a ten year period where I lost several days of my life. I know that my mom and probably everyone else at some point or another has wondered if I was just making it up, but it is the truth. Are we over that now? Good.

The last thing I remember before the Great Time Skip of 2000 was going to grab some more sticks for kindling. Dad had just left, and mom decided that some bonding time between us was what we needed to get over it a bit. She decided on camping, mostly because we had only a little money to spare for a vacation and also because I’d been making noise about wanting to join the Boy Scouts, so she figured a taste of what was to come would be good for me.

It was not the middle of nowhere. It was a commercialized camping ground with public restrooms and showers within spitting distance of the lots where the customers would park their RVs or tents (which was what we had). Go a bit beyond that and you would get the beginnings of a forest, with some lovely (or so the brochures all said) caves and streams deeper in. It was early summer and the place was, if not packed, at least sufficiently full that I always saw at least three or four other people wandering around.

Despite this (or maybe because of it), mom had told me in no uncertain terms that I could not leave the camping ground without her. I, being six and therefore stupid, thought this was horrendously unfair and whined about it every chance I got. There was the pristine wilderness, waiting to be explored and conquered by the brave Jack Darby! How could she say no to my true calling of adventure?

As it turned out, easily and repeatedly.

Five days in however and nothing horrible had happened, so she dropped her guard. It took about an hour for the fire to heat up enough to cook our dinner, so we always started it while it was still day, and we were out of kindling since we’d made breakfast earlier. She told me I could get the kindling by myself if I stayed at the edge of the woods, didn’t grab more than I could carry, didn’t go with anyone who wasn’t her or a park ranger, didn’t eat anything I found, didn’t poke the wildlife, etc. The list was long and I ignored most of it.

Finally, I was free. I remember running to the edge of the trees, feeling my heart race, sure that this two minute wood gathering chore was going to be the greatest night of my life….

… And then I woke up a week later in the hospital.

Now, again, I was six. I was a stupid six year old who thought death was something that happened to other people only and my mom was a nurse who had taken me to her hospital on a few occasions, so I wasn’t wondering where I was or feeling scared. I mostly remember feeling very confused. I had been at the campground and then I was in a hospital bed, covered in bandages and with a bunch of wires taped to my skin. There was no in-between and this was rather bothersome to me.

My mom was sleeping in an oversized chair not too far away and she looked like garbage even to my adolescent eyes. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail, there were dark shadows under her eyes and she had the slightly shiny look of someone who has let their body oil build up over the course of a few days. Her clothes were wrinkled and she did not have any shoes on, which did not seem fair since she had always told me I could not take off my shoes while I was in the hospital.

I was about ready to wake her up and tell her she needed to find her shoes or we had to go home (again, I was six. This made perfect sense at the time), when….

…Well….

…When someone said, [Where are we, creature?]

I stopped my mouth mid-word, my lips forming a perfect oh shape as I began the “ah” part of mom.

There were two reasons for my surprise:

  1. My mom and I were, as far as I could see, the only people in the room.
  2. I had not heard a voice.



Well, let me clarify.

There was no _noise_. No vibration of the air reaching my inner ears to be translated by my brain into a recognizable set of syllables.

But, someone had spoken.

There was a silence after that. Long enough that I began to wonder if maybe I had just imagined it. I had just woken up after all and sometimes my dreams were not quick to let me go.

Except, there it was again.

[Can you hear me? Where are we?]

There was not a voice. There was a Voice.

It spoke. I know what it said.

_But I did not hear a thing_.

If I had been a little older, if I had been a little less dehydrated and starved, if I had been a bit more coherent in any meaningful measurement, I would have freaked out, people may have taken me more seriously and that would probably have led to a lot of complications.

As it was, I considered this with all of my child logic and decided it was rude not to answer a question.

“We’re in a hospital,” I said. “How come I can’t see you?”

There was silence again for a long time. Then….

[I… believe I am seeing things through your perspective. Would you please raise a servo?]

“A what?”

[A servo. The… multi-digited end of your upper limbs.]

“I think you mean a hand,” I said softly as I raised my left hand up to stare at it. An IV needle was slid under my skin and held in place with a bit of tape.

[Can you feel anything?]

“No. Should I?”

[Considering I am trying to flex our… hand, yes, I was hoping you would.]

“My hand, not ours.”

[I do not think that is true at the moment. I can feel what you are doing. I simply do not seem to have any input myself.]

_That_ got my attention. He was speaking a bit strangely – why all the stiffness and big words? – but he was still telling me that he could feel what I was doing to what should have been only my body.

{Are you in my head?} I thought.

[… I… will say yes, given the… evidence. My own body was nothing like this, I do not find anything familiar about these surroundings and Rhis -!!!]

That was the first of the very few times that Voice ever well and truly _flipped out_.

[Where is my blade?! I am never without it, where is it?! Why can I not feel it?!]

And I _did_ feel something then, a static-charged burn that spread through my whole body. I yelped, which woke up my mom. She immediately rushed over and hugged me, saying over and over again, “Thank God, you’re awake, I knew you’d be fine, thank God,” and so forth. I was banging on her shoulders with what little mobility my tiny arms had and finally she let go to look me in the face.

“You need to find his sword! He’s screaming over and over, and you have to make him stop!” I sobbed. It was the yelling that was doing it, really. I had by that point learned that an adult yelling – and the Voice was definitely giving off adult vibes – meant serious trouble. Your-father-is-gone-forever trouble. We-can’t-afford-the-house-on-one-income-and-have-to-move trouble. I didn’t care that I was in a hospital or that I couldn’t remember anything in the immediate past, I just wanted that person to stop screaming in my head.

When my mom asked who’s sword and who was I talking about, I told her everything I had gone through since waking up.

At the time, I thought it very strange that my explaining everything made her look more upset rather than less.

And the seizure five seconds later _really_ did not help matters.


	2. 1.2 - Let's Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something wrong with Jack, obviously. What is causing those problems is less obvious. 
> 
> Also, Voice is not a fan of first grade educational activities.

So, seizures.

There are actually a several different kinds. For a small example, you can have myoclonic seizures, which are kind of annoying, but basically not worth mentioning. Have you ever had a twitch in a muscle that caused it to spasm without any input from you? Myoclonic seizures are basically that, but they last for a while. Then there are absence seizures, where you just… stop for a bit. To everyone watching you, you have spaced out. Then you come back to yourself and a little slice of your life disappeared when you were not paying attention. These are slightly more problematic, especially when I’m in class or having a conversation, but they are, again, not much more than annoying to me.

And then there are the grand mal seizures.

When someone says seizure, these are probably what you are thinking of. The entire body spasms, every muscle clenching and unclenching in rapid fire succession, you collapse, you usually do not remember what happened, you probably have minor injuries, you might have serious injuries, you might even have brain damage, and everyone around you is usually panicking.

Guess which one I had first?

 

* * *

 

I woke up and found my mother holding my hand in a death grip, while a strange man flashed a light in my eyes and a strange woman touched my chest. Everything hurt like I had fallen down a hill and hit every single rock on the way down, and I was breathing hard and fast.

[Cccrkkshshshsh.]

Voice was not feeling very well either.

“Jack? Can you hear us?” The strange man asked.

“Yeersh,” I slurred out.

“Okay, we’re going to sit you up on some pillows. Bear with us.”

I did not know why he was giving me more pillows. I did not know why my mom was crying again. I did not know why I felt so horrible. I did not know why I was in a hospital. I was six and stupid, and so I asked something I should not have.

“Mommmma, ‘m I dyin’?” I asked faintly, not really believing it, but wondering if maybe I should reconsider the whole “children do not die” thing.

I wanted mom to tell me no, that was stupid, we could go home now.

Instead, she started crying harder.

 

* * *

 

An endless round of tests later and it was decided that I was not dying. What they could not figure out was what was actually wrong with me.

Physically, I was a bit dehydrated and malnourished (better than I had been when I came in, mind you), had scrapes and bruises up and down my body, was sensitive to bright lights and my body’s EM field was kind of weird. They were not sure _how_ it was weird, which was another thing. An electrocardiogram was ordered first after my seizure, with an electroencephalogram to follow when the results for that came out wrong. Then when _that_ came out wrong, they ordered a magnetocardiogram, a magnetoencephalogram, a CT scan, full body thermal scan and more blood tests than I care to remember. I was x-rayed, ultrasounded, had a camera shoved into several orifices and worse things. I had a _spinal tap_ and that was the only time I ever cried in a hospital. These tests were repeated whenever information from one contradicted the other, which happened often.

The only conclusion they could give was that I was healing perfectly fine, except when I was not. When I was not fine, I was seizing. No one could figure out what was causing that, but they all seemed to agree that getting my heart rate up seemed to increase the chances of it happening a lot.

The one consistency that remained throughout multiple repeated exams was my body having a particularly bright MRI image. They put me in that tube about a dozen times and each time, the image came out looking like I was lit up on the inside.

This continued on and off for about two weeks. Eventually, they ran out of tests to try. Eventually, the insurance company started sending mom notices that there was only so much our plan covered. 

It took about twenty-three days from the time I first woke up, but finally, I could go home.  

 

* * *

 

By the time mom pulled our battered, second hand Honda into the driveway of our house I was basically fine. I had nothing wrong with me that could be seen. There was just the constant threat that I was going to seize again and… him. The Voice.

He had not gone away. He had, in fact, been quite vocal about everything that was done to my – _not_ our – body, since he could feel every bit of I as well as I could. We shared opinions on the spinal tap. 

I had told everyone about him, of course. Some had thought it was just a response to stress – make up a friend to keep me company until things were better again, or something along those lines. Others took me more seriously and they proved to be more troublesome. In hindsight, I was pretty sure the CT scan was more because I said I had a voice in my head than because of the seizures. Voice picked up on the response to me getting more tests every time I reminded someone that he was still talking and told me to tone down the constant whining about him. I did not have a lot of enthusiasm for obeying him until he explained that it might have less people poking me and make mom less of a nervous wreck.

[Listen child, it is a simple cause and effect relationship. You telling your… creator and crafters that there is another voice in your head seems to cause them distress. This in turn causes them to seek to cure what they perceive as a defect. However, they cannot find that defect with one test and so they use another and another. As long as you keep telling them you have me speaking to you, they will keep testing you.]

{But you shouldn’t be in my head.}

[ _I AM WELL AWARE!_ ]

Yeah, mom….

She was not taking any of this well. At all. I think it might have been worse since she’s a nurse and had a perfect understanding of everything the doctors said when they were examining me at an atomic level. By the time we went away from the hospital (which she _was not_ happy about, but there was nothing else they could test me for without sending me to some multi-million-dollar specialist clinic that our health care providers would not have let us within fifty miles of without attaching five more zeroes to our monthly payment), she had lost about six pounds and gained the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. The fact that she had used up over half of her vacation and sick days hanging around while I was poked and prodded was also a decision. We were not on good financial ground after moving to Jasper. The house had taken up most of the divorce settlement for a down payment, moving out there had cost a lot of money too and with my lengthy stay in the hospital on top of that, she needed to get back to work.

Dad had not sent me so much as a get-well card during all of this, which was the final nail in the daddy-doesn’t-love-you-any-more coffin, just in case you all wonder why I never talk about him.

Anyway, it was not so bad at first. I hadn’t mentioned Voice for a week by then and I was pretty sure they had believed me when I said, “No Dr. Price, I don’t hear him anymore.” I’d figured out that exertion = more chance of hitting the floor and had, through supreme effort, limited all my activities to reading and watching television (once they confirmed flashing lights did nothing to trigger my attacks, anyway). Mom kept me home for three more days and, after nothing happened, decided to risk sending me back to school.

Voice did not like school.

 

* * *

 

[This is an inefficient waste of resources,] he said on the first day back. [With how lax your attention span is, having a ratio of twenty-nine students to one instructor results in next to no progress each cycle.]

We had progressed a bit from him having a screaming panic attack and me responding in kind. Mostly, he told me things and I listened, except when I did not. Sometimes he asked me things, mostly clarifications about what we were seeing and hearing.

{Teacher helps anyone who asks for it,} I said back, putting an extra coating of glitter over the glue smeared around my paper crown.

[And what is the _point_ of this? What point is there to instructing your young in how to create flimsy, gaudy looking decorations that will in all likelihood be destroyed or lost before the next solar cycle?]

{It’s fun.}

[How vital.]

Yeah, he wasn’t terribly big on arts and crafts.

Still….

With the benefit of hindsight, I think that was where it started.

Me listening to him.

Me building things.

It would be a little while before I progressed to anything more meaningful than that construction paper, Elmer’s glue and glitter crown, but….

Yeah, I think that’s about the time Voice and I started getting along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is out for the summer and I have time to write again. 
> 
>  
> 
> I do not have any condition that causes seizures myself and I'm going purely off of research and other people's testimonies on this. If anyone sees a mistake or thinks there is a better way of putting something, please let me know in the comments.


	3. 1.3 - The New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Voice are adjusting. Also, half-assed explanations, because Voice might like the boy, but he ain't trusting a first-grader any more than Jack annoys him into just yet.

The health problems were not going away.

I mean, hey, I was a kid. My mom and my teachers could tell me a hundred times a day to take it easy and each time, I’d forget they said anything five seconds later. Voice was a help, but only when I felt like listening to him. I knew that he was more responsible than me, but that was only so much of a reason to obey him when I felt like doing something else. Like racing. Or getting more candy from the snack bin. Or staying up later than I should.

It was kind of like having my mom watching me 24/7. Got old quick.

So, there was a lot of fighting. And screaming, mostly on my end. Which raised my heartrate.

The first fit I had after getting out of the hospital was three weeks after I got back into school and it resulted in me heading right back to the hospital, my mom going off her shift early and me eating more of that bland, disgusting cafeteria food. Then there were more tests, a repeat of the ‘we don’t know what’s wrong with your son’ routine, which mom was as sick of as I was, and I was released the next day with a doctor’s note excusing me from recess indefinitely until they fixed what was causing my problem. Six-year-old me was not pleased. Voice was ecstatic. Mom was slowly losing her mind.

I spent a lot of time reading that school year. The only exercise I got was under the paranoid eye of our physical education teacher, who showed me a set of stretching exercises I could do to stay limber and _absolutely nothing else_. My diet started having all the sugar cut out of it. No more candy, no more soda, no more joy towards life. I was even less pleased. Voice told me to suck it up.

The problem was, even if they removed all available opportunity for me to run wild like a child in nature should have, they did not separate me from my peers. And little children? Love to scream and run. I was not given leave to run, but I could still scream. All it took was one argument over the merits of Bugs Bunny over Daffy Duck and I was back in the hospital for a third time. Mom was crying by the time I explained what had happened, which made me feel like a massive jerk. Voice agreed that I was.

I promised to behave and bow out of any arguments before they made me excited. I whole heartedly meant it at the time. I kept it for about five weeks.

In my defense, Vince would not take ‘leave me alone’ for an answer.

Then there was the issue of pulling me out of school. I was all for it, until I learned that I was still going to have to be home schooled. I knew mom needed to go to work to get money, so she could not act as my teacher. She could not afford to hire one either, so it was public school or bust.

My teacher at the time, Mrs. Shaper, swore up and down to keep a better eye on me and separate me from any other children if it didn’t look like we were getting along. It proved unnecessary as the second time I’d had a seizure was seen by the entire class and they were even more freaked out about it than I was by that point. No one bothered me again. It was rather rare for anyone to talk to me, period.

So, isolation and boredom. Great combination, let me tell you. Great for resentment, great for mistakes… and great for deepening your existing relationships.

 

* * *

 

{So, are you going to tell me your name now?}

We were sitting by the window while the other kids played outside in the sand box. Mrs. Shaper was looking through our coloring assignments at her desk behind me. _The Cat in the Hat_ was keeping half of my attention, while the other half waited for Voice’s reply.

See, I knew he wasn’t actually Voice. I had just started calling him that for convenience’s sake and he never bothered correcting me. When I finally had gotten around to asking after I’d gotten home and calmed down a bit towards the idea of him, he’d told me it didn’t matter.

[No. You are the only one who knows I am here. You are the only one who can speak to me, for a given definition of speaking. What does it matter?]

{Because it’s your name. Voice is just something I started calling you. What if I’d called you Screamer or just You?}

[If you had called me Screamer, I would have kept screaming. As it is, Voice is fine for now.]

{But what’s your name?}

There was a sound like a sigh. [I will not tell you that, Jack. Leave it.]

I was starting to get angry by that point. The reminder that he knew my name did not help.

{That’s not fair. Why can’t I know your name?}

[Because if you know it, you could tell someone.]

Now that was just rude.

{I said I wouldn’t tell anyone about you anymore. I promised, remember? I won’t break it.}

[Like you promised your mother to keep calm and not be rushed to the hospital again? Even when you mean your promises Jack, you can break them by accident.]

{But I wouldn’t break this one. How could I accidently say your name if I don’t talk about you?}

There was quiet then, but it was a contemplative kind of quiet. I could… kind of feel him thinking things thought very carefully. In hindsight, I think he was trying to find a way of saying things so that they wouldn’t scare me.

[I… still do not remember how I came to be within you. Jack, I was chasing a… a very bad person. Possibly the worst person who ever lived. If he knew where I was, I believe he would come to get me. By extension, that would now include you. Possibly your mother as well.]

That got my attention. I was slowly starting to understand that being little did not mean I could not be hurt. The hospital visits had been good for that if nothing else.

{You think he’d come get you? Even like this?}

[If he still lives and he ever learns of me? Yes, I think he would. And I cannot remember whether or not I had found him before waking up with you. It might be that I fear for nothing, but I dare not risk it even a little.]

{So,} I carefully thought out all of my words. {You were chasing this scary guy and you can’t remember if you found him or not. Then you woke up with me and because I’m so little, you worry that he can get you easy if he figures out that you’re inside me. Which he might, if I learn your name and say it out loud at some point in front of the wrong person.}

[Yes.]

{You’re really paranoid.}

[It’s kept me alive. And nothing I’ve seen leads me to believe we are secure in this place. There is mention of you hearing a voice in your head now stored in that hospital’s records, which are electronic if I recall. The chances of their network being impenetrable to a determined spark are infinitesimally low. Now, if someone had seen you and I together before… _this_ occurred, then might they not wonder whose voice that could be?]

{But people don’t just leave their bodies to get inside others. That’s a dumb thing to think. Why would anyone think you were in me, even with that to go on?}

[Because I am not a human and neither is he.]

 _That_ made me pause. _The Cat in the Hat_ was set down on the desktop, fully ignored now. Outside, the other children were lining up for a head count by the yard attendant before heading back to their classes. I could hear Mrs. Shaper getting up to open the door behind me.

{What are you then?}

[An alien, by your standards. I was not created on your world, on Earth. Neither was my foe. I do not recall exactly how I arrived here, but I was created amongst the stars.]

I can still remember feeling the smile stretch across my face.

{That’s so cool! What was your planet called? What do you really look like? Do you have a spaceship?}

I could feel a combination of amusement and surprise. [This does not distress you? I remember your reaction to _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_.]

{No, that was just a movie. The worst thing you ever told me to do was lie to the doctors and mom. And this makes a lot more sense than you being a human. Humans can’t share bodies. So, what are you called?}

[We’ve discussed this.]

{No, your _species_. What are all of you called?}

[We… I can’t give you a name that would be safe for you to know. No, leave this alone Jack. The point of this was to explain why I can’t tell you any names.]

{Then tell me what you looked like before.}

The other kids were starting to return to the classroom. I knew I only had a little bit of time before he started telling me pay attention to the arithmetic lesson we were getting, so I pressed as hard as I could.

{I can say it’s a story I made up if I have to. Please, give me something!}

[…You watch a great deal of those cartoons. I suppose you could play it off as something you saw on _Batman_ or something along those lines.]

{Yeah, exactly. Now spill.}

Everyone was filtering in through the door and heading back to their desks. It was only after everyone was in and the door shut that he spoke again.

[We are mechanical beings to your biological. Do you recall watching _The Iron Giant_? Something along those lines, but not quite so big, more verbose and able to mimic other machines. We could scan something for a disguise, or for more mobility, and then transform into it.]

{Cool! What could you change into?}

[A flying machine. Now pay attention to your mathematics lesson.]

I knew that tone meant he was not going to budge. He never did when it came to lessons he deemed useful. Thankfully, this was limited to mathematics, reading, writing and nothing else provided by my first-grade curriculum.

I sighed and put my book into my desk, took out some paper and went to work.

 

* * *

 

Mom was waiting for me when I got let out for the day. The days of me riding the bus home were a long-gone memory by then.

“Did you have any problems today?” mom asked as I got into the car. The days of her asking if I had fun were also a long-gone memory.

“No mom, it was fine,” I responded. It was kind of a moot point. I knew for a fact that my teacher, the school nurse and the principal all had my mom’s phone number memorized, so she would have known within a minute if something had gone wrong. I think it was just a way of reassuring herself that I was not going to have a fit that day, since I had nothing to get excited about at home. At all.

[You could tell her more than that. What about that book you read?]

{She knows I have it, remember? She gave it to me.}

[She might still enjoy hearing about you finishing it though. I was given to understand that you were rather exceptional a reader for someone of your age.]

Somewhat true. Most of my classmates were still working on upper and lowercase letters. There were only two other kids that were actually reading whole books on their own and I was pretty sure I was the only one who did it for fun. It was more out of a lack of other options, but still.

“I... finished _The Cat in the Hat_ today. Can we go to the library again later?”

“Oh honey, good job! Let’s go home first so I can drop off the groceries, then we’ll head out.”

The mention of groceries caused me to perk up a bit. “Did you get any candy?”

“Jack, we talked about this.”

[You should not be eating that.]

I sighed.

 

* * *

  

I picked out two more Dr. Seuss books and the first Harry Potter novel from the library’s child section. I was not at Rowling’s preferred reading level yet, but mom had begun reading to me again before I went to bed and she could get all the big words. We got through the first chapter before she kissed me goodnight and shut out the light. I lay in my bed and tried to count the bumps in the ceiling of my little room.

[You should be trying to shut down for the night.]

{I’m not tired yet,} I responded.

I had not done much that day. The most exciting thing had been Voice’s admission that he was an alien, easily. It still made my heart race a little when I thought about it, something he was quick to point out.

{What did the bad guy do?}

[Jack,] Voice had a warning in his tone.

{I’m serious. You said he’s a bad person, right? Why were you after him and what if he does come here? What would he do?}

[Nothing you could stop, so do not bother worrying over it. It is my problem, if it even is a problem at some point in the future.]

{Would he destroy the planet?}

[Recharge, Jack. We may speak again in the morning.]

{You’re a stuffy jerk.}

[What does stuffy mean? …You do not know.]

{Shut up.}

 

* * *

 

…What?

Yeah, I did learn about Voice’s true name and who he was chasing and why he was chasing them and, well, everything. More than I ever wanted to know really. That was a while in the future, though. And it involved me almost dying multiple times in one day, something mom was delighted to hear once I finally got around to telling her the truth about all of this. I mean, the first time it happened, she almost had a heart attack of her own, but finding out I’d intentionally gone into trouble….

…Oh, no, I mean the first time I almost died more than once in a day. That happened before.

How?

…Well, my health problems didn’t exactly… stay constant.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the most writing I've done in such a short amount of time this year, even including my research papers and essays. Stories are a lot more fun though.


End file.
